Mis(s) Makeup
by MsSchneeheide
Summary: Maritza liked a mystery in the right context. But this was not it, and she was not amused.


The first time it happened she was boarding the subway car on her way to work. It'd be a loong night of drinks-filling, fake flirting and secret idiot-mocking with her colleagues.

A giant beanstalk crossed her path, almost making her trip with her school backpack.

"Hey! Watch where you're going you b...," the turning of the beanstalk stopped her bashing.

"Oh sorry!" the girl pulled the second earbud out.

"Mh. _Right_," she stressed. "Wait is that a tattoo?" she added accusingly.

"What on my face?! Bitch please!"

"Ugh. You never know with stupid kids nowadays."

She rolled her eyes and put both earbuds back in.

X

While she was just in front of the sliding door was the second.

A presence was looming on her right side.

"Oh, you again." She pursed her lips in reply. There was some kind of malfunctioning with the opening system and the goth girl was listening to the announcement, just like every other pissed off person around.

She tapped her heel. "Lancôme Grandiôse Carbon Black liner right?"

"Nope," she popped.

Mmh. Her eyes narrowed for a second as the door finally opened and in they went in opposite ways.

XX

The following attempt was much more reasoned.

Again she'd been about to put her foot onto the car, and again someone else had almost collided with her, someone wearing _flatforms_, of all things. "Hey! Show some respect, you flatf... OH." Look at this. It was a fine look indeed.

"Hi," she smirked deviously. Teardrop girl eyed her with suspicion. "Hi, erm... sorry I thought they were closing the doors."

"Mh."

A few stops went by while Maritza was surreptitiously studying the situation, then a small smile started playing on her lips. The girl breathed deeply and took off her earbuds. "What?"

Now was the time to triumph. "It's Hourglass Script Prescription, isn't it?"

She smiled. "Not really. Sorry Ollivander!" A puzzled look. "Not a Harry Potter fan mh?," well look at that dress and heels, it shouldn't have been a surprise.

"Well. Bye!"

Duh.

XXX

Third time's the charm they say? Well she wasn't charmed, not one bit. She might have started off as intrigued, but now it was more like irritated.

OK, so the first had been amateurish mistakes.

Lancôme was too high-end for a student, so was Hourglass even though that had been a more educated guess, what with their protecting animal rights pledge and the alternative vibe the girl gave off. Now she was sure she had a winner. Still vegan, a nice solid pigment for those neat perfect flicks, but a smudge cheaper.

She was debating whether or not to take tomorrow night off to spend a quiet evening home with her sis and Juliana, when someone bumped into her from behind. God she hated the subway.

Turning ready to rip the a**hole a new one, she was met with the giant making placating gestures. "Now he bumped into me first" she gestured at a rapboy with baggy jeans. Her eyes moved to and immediately away from the guy in distaste, stopping on teardrop's face. She lightened up in a delighted smile, and the other's look got more worried. She bit on her lower lip.

"Hola..." she drawled, "Tarte Sex Kitten."

"...WHAT did you just call me?"

"...wha...I..." she gasped and flushed, pointing – "the liner!"

"- - Aaaah otra vez..." she chuckled amused. "Good try. It's not though."

ARGH.

XXXX

Now having her apparently flawed knowledge of her area of expertise exposed like that and being laughed at publicly 'cause of it was simply unacceptable. She could not let this slide. Darn it. Darn her dumb doe eyes and stupid plump lips.

The next day she spotted her from a distance and deliberately moved in her direction, timing it all just right.

Standing right next to the door, she turned and took one of the girl's earbuds out. Her interest seemed piqued as she bent her way, at which she got closer on tiptoes and spoke loudly in her ear. "Have a great evening... theBalm Schwing!"

A horrified look followed her getting out of the car.

XXXXX

Alright, she could admit that that had been a bit petty. It was totally worth it at the moment though, seeing the petrified face of her tormentor, she smiled.

But a few days passed and she was still getting the cold shoulder.

Immediately after the small revenge she had felt on top of the world, had had a permanent smug expression on and strutted into the place like she owned it – well, much like she usually did.

Only the girl's eyes had darkened the first time she saw her again and she had turned the other way. At present she was plainly ignoring her, hiding behind big tomes with slightly worrying titles like "The Bloody Chamber" or "The Madwoman in the Attic", not that she was paying that much attention, she'd happened to see totally by chance; _plus_ the usual earbuds.

Now that was just overkill.

Still she was rethinking the whole thing and maybe starting to reconsider. From her point of view it had probably been a serious insult, a diss at everything she believed in like post-punk music, people's goodness or that even if you're funny, you gotta cry.

It was clear from the way she dressed and her makeup how she'd feel about the retro cute funny packaging; still, it was a local cruelty free company, yadda yadda yadda, so she didn't think it'd be _that_ offensive.

These oversensitive emos.

She cautiously went towards her and clutched her fingers around the same hand grip. Just a flick of a glimpse. She gave a little fake cough, then exaggerated it some more.

A darkened expression and pursed lips appeared from over the page. "Well?"

She gave a small smile, and "MAC Liquid Last Liner?" she tried softly, with hopeful eyes.

The other didn't seem to budge – for a whole very long six seconds. Then she put the book back in her bag and, with a flippant smile, shook her head no before stepping out of the car.

XXXXXX

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, in a couple of weeks she'd start an OK daytime job with decent hours which could improve her mami skills and maybe in the future also let her have a social life, but she was still no closer to the solution.

The other day she was actually positive she'd got a good one, and now she'd found a valid alternative.

They had somehow gravitated towards the same door and, once in, the same less crowded corner of the car. It had been a quiet ride; she could well hear some of the pussy music that the girl was listening to with one ear.

When the end of it was getting nearer, she looked at her reflection in the window; they almost smiled.

"So. Revlon Colour Stay," she stated.

"...OMFG this is becoming like a Rumplestiltskin thing," she laughed.

"What did you just call me? Will you stop calling me names?" she asked hotly. Goodness.

"Nothing, nevermind. That was good, very good," she nodded. Aaaah yes yes YES. She knew she had it! Sweet victory – "But no, sorry," she smiled not so sweetly, waved and went.

XXXXXXX

Officially now, she was at her wits' end.

Had her whole life been a complete, utter lie? The pillars she had built it on had crumbled, crashed down one after the other.

Was it even liquid? Was it even... black? Perhaps it was an extremely dark shade of blue, or...

But no, she couldn't lose it. She had tried almost everything, but there was still that _almost_ to explore – so she moved ahead, soldiered on and beyond her limits.

She had to do quite a bit of research for this, the Internet kind but even going as far as the cheap aisles she had never dared to thread before. She _had_ standards please, she might ride the subway but that was because the budget was limited and she had her priorities straight.

Anyways it had been a learning experience. Only now she couldn't really put her finger on it, apparently just about everything could look that good with very good hands using it, and it was obvious that very good hands those were.

After a couple days of agitation on her side and stolen worried glances on the other, she took a deep breath and steeled herself for it. She walked the few steps between them and leaned against the metal pole.

"So what is it? Proline Felt Tip? Mega Liner? Wet and Wild H20 Proof? You HAVE to tell me".

The tentative smile on the girl's face dropped. "Really? This is..." a sigh. "Hell no Scooby-Doo, I don't want pieces of my face to fall apart with that stuff!" she protested.

"...yeah right, that'd be a pity" she murmured meekly with a little pout. Teardrop just didn't stop staring at her retreating form.

XXXXXXXX

Those days Flaca had taken considerable care and some license in preparing her backpack. Not all books were essential anyway, and she could always borrow from Cindy. Who, by the way, had noticed that there was something amiss with her lately, so she had said; on a similar note had spoken Marco, that little sh*t, defining it "a whole new level of weird." If her mom had ideas too, she thankfully kept them to herself.

Flaca had seen the tiny feisty perfect human going through a wide range of states in the few weeks since they'd met and it had been... various things, but always entertaining as well. This distance and the sad looks she'd been sporting for the last few days though – this, she didn't enjoy.

Hence the plan she'd come up with; easy-peasy.

The right opportunity arose that evening.

She followed her and plopped down on the next seat. Her face was 100% naked.

The girl/woman spared half a glance, then turned again just a moment later almost giving herself backlash, and startled.

Forcibly unfazed, Flaca opened her backpack and took out her magic box. She could feel the burn of her gaze on the kit, her hands, her face.

She zipped up the bag again and laid it on her thighs, leaving on top the box and her phone on mirror mode.

First came the cleansing; she poured some liquid from a tiny bottle labeled "olive oil" on a cotton pad and gently rubbed her face. Then a brownish powder that smelled subtly like coffee came out of a jar and provided a nice foundation. Next was the turn of another small bottle, Pepto-Bismol, which resulted in highlighted features and somewhat flushed cheeks.

She put the little containers and tools away and got ready for the next stage.

Now another baby jar with barely a drop of... water? was filled with a packet of red colored Kool-Aid; just some mixing with a teaspoon, the adding of a bit of sugar from a sachet and the mixture was carefully applied to ripe lips with a Q-tip, painting them a deep crimson. Tongue wet a basic colored pencil that instantly turned into an eyeliner and gave the girl that signature look.

Tidying all the hobbit objects back into their box and putting it into the backpack took only another few moments.

There.

Quick, easy, and efficient.

Finally Flaca turned with a smile. "Here. DIY fly 101."

There were a few suspended instants.

Maritza had looked emptied and confused: empty of her certainties, she knew nothing, and full of wild crazy thoughts she couldn't make sense of. Now she simply looked in wonderment.

Her left hand rose to the right cheek, which she gently cupped.

The index finger reverently traced her teardrop. It didn't smudge.

Eyes roamed over her face, left to right cheeks, round her eyelids, into the frozen irises, plunging down to just parted lips, back up inside black holes of pupils.

Her thumb caressed the bottom lip contour, and there was still the unquenchable thirst for knowledge, she couldn't help but wonder, she had to know...

She pecked her mouth with her own. And then chased it, captured it, held it captive between her teeth, as it rebelled and tried to upend the balance.

They split with hands on arms, soft labored breaths and newly opened eyes. Fighting mouths turned to bright smiles and a little giggle. Their stops had come and gone, but there was still much to research.

Glances fell again, and they leaned forward.

Maritza passed her tongue on dark lips to investigate. Would it really be smudge proof too?

Yes, she concluded. This needed more thorough testing.


End file.
